On Childhood's Wings
by Rainlight2427
Summary: In a desperate attempt to disrupt the Avengers, Loki travels back to Midgard, where he meets a seven (almost eight!) year old girl with interesting ideas and a lot to say about revenge. Go on. I dare you. Click the button that says review. No Romance, pre-Civil War.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Fanfiction universe! This is my first story; please do NOT go easy with criticism just because I'm new; on the contrary, heap it on me, don't hold back.**

 **I won't yell at you for not praising the story or anything;** **if you think it is an absolute travesty, please tell me why, and I'll do my best to fix it.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own the Avengers. All rights go to Marvel Studios for filming it and Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for creating them.**

 **This is for my friend Jotunheim Storm, who made me feel welcome.**

* * *

 _If you are a dreamer, come in,_

 _If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,_

 _A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer..._

 _If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire_

 _For we have some flax-golden tales to spin._

 _Come in!_

 _Come in!_

 _\- Shel Silverstein_

* * *

Come in children, do come in. Have some tea, and—what's that you say? A story? Why, of course you do—forgive an old woman for rambling so...Now what have I not told you before? Ah, have you heard the tale of the little girl and the prince? Oh, no, I don't believe it has come up yet...

A long time ago (when _I_ was a young girl), just a few miles away, a great battle took place. It was a great city, New York, and the genius of the age, Tony Stark had built a great, hulking, monster of a tower with his name plastered on it. Self dubbed genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, he was arrogant and pig-headed. He was also a superhero. (Don't interrupt now, children!) And SHIELD had put him together with another team of heroes to stand against the Jotun Loki. Can you guess which team they are?  
Yes, the Avengers fought valiantly, but try as they might, even they could not save every last person. However, _my_ father did not die from that (yes, I was there, now hush!), but rather a disease passed down from generation to generation ( _Yes,_ I _did_ survive child, however do think I'm standing here now?). My dear father brought me to my caring mother, who was a waitress at a café. She was _the_ waitress at the café. And she started dating _Captain America,_ somehow. Maybe he had rescued her during the battle? I don't know, for I was with my father.

* * *

(*3rd person P.O.V.*)

"But _Mama—"_ whined a six year old girl, " _please,_ can I get the doll? She's special edition, only for a year, and—and," the little girl's eyes glinted as she had a sudden epiphany; "poor, poor, _Daddy_ would have gotten her for me."

The girl's poor mother, Alyssa, paused at that. Her husband had been pulled off life support a few months ago, leaving her a single mother, struggling to keep herself and her daughter afloat. True, they had been divorced for _years_ now, but he was a good man and kept the paychecks coming for his beloved little girl. But he was a poor man and Alyssa was ashamed she couldn't do better than him. She weighed her options for a moment and headed into the store.

"Just this once, Sophia," sighed Alyssa for what seemed the millionth time; "and not too lo—it's _a hundred_ _dollars_?! I'm sorry, honey, but we don't have that kind of money."

"But, _Mommy..._ " _Stupid American Girl dolls,_ thought Sophia, _too stupid expensive._ It was the second time poor Grace had been rejected, one parent at a time.

* * *

At home, in their measly little apartment, Sophia was bathed and put to bed just as the doorbell rang."I wonder who that is..." frowned her mother. "Stay here, Sophia. Go to sleep." Sophia heard the door open and a surprised and girlish giggle... from... her... mother? "Why, hello, Captain," said her mother's voice. _What's Captain America doing here?_ thought the girl _. Oh!_ I _know. Silly me! He's coming to give me a present!_ And with that thought in mind, she ran to the backpack he dropped to find the doll. Ruffling through she discovered a tube of lipstick. _That's probably for me, too,_ she thought. There was a wallet that she ignored, a phone (a Blackberry—what's up with that? Were iPhones too complicated, or something?), keys...yada, yada, yada, but no doll. At least the lipstick was nice. She uncapped the scarlet tube and two tendrils popped out, attached themselves to the bronze doorknob, and zapped it.

"Erm...I think your kid discovered the taser, Alyssa..." said a voice above Sophia's head—and then Captain America was standing over her. _Uh-oh. Better run._

"Gottagobye!" said she in one word and ran. Straight into her mother. Bad move. _  
_

" _Sophia_ ," sighed Alyssa for the million-and-one-th time that day." _Sophia_ , I have to go out tonight. Steve is gonna go with me, but first you're going to stay at the Tower." Sophia was confused— what tower? "I mean Stark Tower; you know the big stick with a ball thing on top." _Ohhhh. So THAT'S what 'the Tower' is._ Sophia's thoughts were cut short by her mother—"Sophia, _is that a_ _taser_?"

* * *

After they arrived at the Tower, Mr. Rogers handed Sophia over to an unsmiling man with a cool bow who was introduced as Clint Barton. After Alyssa was assured that Clint was trustworthy enough to be a babysitter, the couple left.

* * *

Two hours later, and Sophia had found out that Clint Barton was the most boring babysitter ever. The fact that she was left in an unlocked room plopped in front of an episode of Dora just proved that. And even worse, he left the room _unlocked._ Evidently, he did _not_ expect her to leave the room. So, the little rascal noiselessly slid off the couch and tiptoed to the door. She peeked out; no one was in sight.

Sophia was on her way out, armed with her new taser (she had stolen it a second time; after Mr. Rogers had explained what it was, it seemed extremely useful), when an accented voice rang out in the corridor. "I do not advise you to sneak out, Ms. Evans, unless you would like Mr. Barton tracking you around the building."

* * *

 **And Loki should turn up next chapter!**

 **So, what do you think? Good, bad, too short, okay? Be sure to leave your opinions in the reviews!**

 **Also, does anyone know how to do the line-y line breaks? That would be helpful.**

 **Well, until next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again fanfiction! TO: Guest: yeah,** **she** **is supposed to be creepy...and Sophia** ** _is_** **a prat isn't she? XD Don't worry, you will see some character development in this story. Catnips: Thanks! Glad you like it. Jotunheim Storm: Thank you for the advice; it helped a lot.**

 **One last thing about the storyline, folks: this takes place after the Age of Ultron, but no major spoilers. Just know the Hulk is on a distant rampage and he won't be appearing anytime soon. Also, this completely ignores Thor: the Dark World. But Frigga is still dead. I'm sorry, I liked her, too.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers. All rights go to Marvel Studios for filming it and Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for creating them.**

 **Anyways, on to the story we go!**

* * *

Loki paced his chambers restlessly; he was trying to avoid Odin if at all possible. Fortunately, Odin was just as unwilling to see his _estranged_ "son" as said son. He needed to leave this dungeon of a room. He clenched his fist suddenly; curse those Avengers! _They_ put him in this gods-forsaken pit; _they_ were the reason Thor was not in his room, comforting his younger brother—not that he wanted it anyway. _They_ were the reason his mother still had to be avenged, and now _somebody else_ had murdered the killer. Who was to blame? The _Avengers,_ of course.

He growled with frustration. No gap in the wall. None. He envisioned that arrogant, armored man (what was it? Man of Iron?) in red and gold as a mangled mass of limbs and superheated metal. The unfortunate Captain, though jealous that his brother, _Thor_ in all his "prince of Asgard" glory, was at his command, Loki had no quarrel with the hapless Captain. His end would be quick and clean. Still, it would be great fun to mess with his mind...Loki brought himself back to the topic at hand; the monster he could kill only with magic (what a pity, it would truly be amusing to watch the beast writhe in pain before him). And that left the Archer and the Widow. An interesting pair; who would meet their demise first? Would Loki control the Archer and through him torture the woman? And then let him witness the mess and end him through himself? No, it would be better to—

 _Crash._

This broke him out of his reverie; he stared as a telltale crack began its journey through the translucent gold that confined him in one room. A grin split his face; he was free. The Allfather was weakening. Loki would, after all, have his revenge.

* * *

Tony Stark, self-proclaimed genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, was having trouble finding a _janitor_. A freaking _janitor._ All the applicants were either homeless or ladies in maid costumes most likely trying to get in his pants (not that it was a con for Tony, but Pepper would absolutely _murder_ him) and it was freaking annoying (actually, he was using much _stronger_ words, but we're trying to keep this rated K+). He had told Pepper he could probably handle finding a _janitor_ , but she had laughed softly and rolled her her eyes as if she knew he had no idea what it was like, trying to find somebody who _wouldn't_ a) blow up the Tower or b) get to the Avengers and stalk them. He could do it! It's just that Fury (and maybe, just _maybe—_ okay, maybeprobably _definitely_ Pepper as well. Not that she was the main reason. No, really!) would kill him if he picked the wrong man, which was why when a well-dressed, dark-haired, green-eyed man walked in to apply, Tony nearly jumped for joy. "You're our janitor. No questions."

* * *

Loki knew that Stark lacked common sense, but when Loki is let into the Tower "no questions asked," Loki began questioning Stark's sanity. "And these are your closets," announced Stark with a sweep of an arm. "It's so supplied, you could live here if you wanted—it won't be as cozy as upstairs, though. No Jarvis. But cameras," here Stark winked at him (how _disgusting_ ) "so no illegal activity." That was fine for Loki. No omniscient robot butler to keep tabs on him at all times. The cameras he could easily put on a loop, so all they saw was the chambers with Loki _sleeping,_ not planning their demise. He would put a Clouding charm over the team so they wouldn't quite recognize him, but his face would jog a distant, foggy memory. Of course, they would remember the battle of New York, but they would never imagine their _janitor's_ face belonged to that of Loki. He smiled. Torture them with their own paranoia. He accepted the spare keys to his closet and the Tower (they both resembled a metal tag; he supposed it was a gadget that Stark had made) and walked into the room. It was as big as the chambers back on Asgard. Loki didn't understand how this was a _supply closet_ until he spotted the mop, bucket, and a strange contraption that was later known to him as a vacuum.

And then he changed his mind—he was going to find his own quarters outside of the hulking, disgusting building. And then he remembered that it was not uncommon for even the most minor of employees to live at the so called Tower. With a capital "T". How pathetic of these tiny, insignificant _mortals._ However, he had a part to act.

* * *

"Everybody, meet our new janitor, Luke. Who I hand-picked myself. Let me repeat myself; I hand-picked him _myself_ , which certain unnamed individuals may want to know," said Tony, definitely _not_ directing the last part to Pepper (sure, Tony, _sure_ ). The Avengers eyed him somewhat apprehensively; several of the male team members had been on the receiving end of mild harassment by fangirls who had seen the advertisement for a "maid" and answered Tony's call for assistance. This was his seventh janitor. Tony was somewhat _hasty_ about his decisions, and most of the time, it landed him in trouble. No surprise there.

"Hi! I bet I'm going to _love_ working here. You guys are _so cool_ —I wish _I_ had superpowers like that!" said the now janitor Loki, who absolutely despised Luke White, his new alias. Luke was a Avengers _fanboy_. Loki most decidedly was _not._ For the Norn's sake, Luke was even _blonde_! (Loki hated blondes; Thor, the Captain et cetera)

Natasha Romanoff, or originally, Natalia Romanova, fingered her guns. Oh, Loki was going to have lots of fun delving into _her_ mind. He nearly pitied her for being stuck with these idiots, but she had still managed to _lie_ to him. He, Loki, god of deception! Duped by a mortal! A _woman_! That was _not_ allowed. At all.

As for the male part of their little _team_ (Loki sneered at their dependency on each other. Pathetic.), they were, for the most part, complete idiots and thick-headed buffoons.

* * *

Five hours later, and Loki found himself cursing his luck as well as Stark for flaunting his wealth in floor space and rooms. _Five hours_ , and he still had yet to find the remarkably camouflaged steps back to his "closets". He was considering screwing his pride and asking directions from the strangely _British_ robot butler, when he heard a little voice remark, "what you doin', Mister? Have you come to give me Grace?" Loki frowned at the child grinning up at him. Who was Grace? As the young child explained exactly who Grace was, and Loki _finally_ understood (apparently Grace was a friend who was literally up for sale—maybe she had been kidnapped and was now being sold— and her parents had refused to buy her—the little girl was heartbroken; Grace was only on the market for the rest of December), Loki wondered why she was at the Tower. He asked her so and she replied, "Oh, Mommy left me here to leave with Mr. Rogers," here she lowered her voice,"I don't think Mommy wants me with her. She won't buy Grace, she gives me the most _boring_ babysitter ever—he made me watch Dora! I hate Dora. Who also left me in an _unlocked_ room. He won't even _play_ with me." Her dull, green eyes brightened with hope; "Will _you_ play with me?"

Loki opened his mouth to say no, but stopped himself. When was the last time he had played? It was a silly question to ask, and irrelevant, _especially_ with his grand plan of revenge, but he genuinely _could not_ remember when he last played as a child. He answered her question.

* * *

Pink dresses. Eerily human resembling dolls (Sophia called them "Barbies"). Tiny, plastic shoes that could barely fit the Barbie's feet. This was how Clint Barton found Luke White and his runaway charge who promptly Tasered him on sight. That was _not_ going on his resumé. Tasered by a six year old brunette. He would be homeless, never mind his family. So, not going on the resumé.

* * *

 **So, how do you like the new chapter? Good, bad, and on a scale of one to ten (one being bad, ten being practically textbook definition), how  
** **in-character is Loki? I'm really scared that I'm gonna make him out of character! He's so hard to write around kids...**

 **Also, if you were wondering about Grace, she really is the American Girl doll of 2015. American Girl is a company that makes up characters both in history and nowadays and makes the doll. Girls of the Year are only produced and sold at the official stores for their own year. So poor Grace is probably never going to be given to Sophia. Unless you guys care enough and at least ten different reviewers say that they "donate" Grace virtually.  
** **  
Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Until next weekend! :)** **  
**


	3. Hiatus

**Okay. Um, sorry for the wait, and...this is not a chapter. WAIT! Before you begin writing an angry review, I need to tell you why I am going on a** ** _temporary_** **hiatus. Keyword: temporary. I know you have probably seen this note a million times, I just cannot keep you waiting and waiting for me to update. I have been most definitely** ** _not_** **been consistent with chapters, and I have awful writer's block. So, if any of you have an idea were I should go with this story, don't be shy! Go on, throw out the suggestions!**

 **Anywaaaay...Do not fear! I'll be back! This story is my baby; I can't just, just** ** _throw_** **her away! (This story is a girl; don't ask me why, I don't know the answer myself)**

 **See ya!**

 **—Rainlight (Or just call me Rain)**

 **Postscript:**

 **And a belated merry Christmas and a happy new year to all! God bless!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimor: I do not own Marvel universe. That belongs to Stan Lee.**

 **Hello people! I'm back! So sorry you had to wait for so long. I probably will not update so much now; my Internet access is restricted, unfortunately. I am also devoid of inspiration—this a bit of a filler chapter, because I don't really know where this fic is going. That aside, let the story begin!**

 **Note: I originally had this as two chapters, but decided that it was wa-a-ay too short.**

* * *

Sophia was bored. This is not surprising, considering she was a hyperactive soon-to-be birthday girl. Nobody seemed to remember! Even the janitor, Luke, stayed in his room. So she only had Jarvis (Mr. Barton had been deemed unsuitable).

She really, _really,_ wanted to tag along on one of the Avengers' missions, but it was "too dangerous". Adults were annoying.

 _Boom._

An explosion rocked the Tower and Sophia screamed as the Hulk's head sprouted from the floor. Evidently, this had triggered Mr. Banner.

"Psst. Hey kid." A familiar voice whispered right beside her head. It was Mr. Barton, dangling from the ceiling. Upon closer examination, Sophia saw that he had removed a ceiling tile and hooked his feet around the opening. Barton's voice brought Sophia back to the moment.

"Stay calm. Don't make any sudden movements unless you want the Hulk after you, and you've gotta be a pretty reckless seven year old to want that." Sophia did _not_ consider herself as a pretty reckless person so she nodded mutely. "I'm gonna slooowly hoist you up to the roof. If we're lucky, he won't turn around and see us."

He did so and deposited her with Ironman. "You finally got your wish, kiddo. Normally, Big, Green, and Angry is under control, but his idea of control is _basically_ the same as out of control, so you're not missing much." he said.

"Do you know who it is?" inquired Sophia."Where's Luke?"

"I dunno and I dunno." said the superhero, struggling with his shirt in his metal suit.

 _I guess I'll just hafta find out._

* * *

Sophia was bored. This was remarkable, considering that she was in the middle of a battle, but she _had_ just been locked in a "safe" room by Jarvis as she went in search of Luke. Dumb AI. What did AI stand for, anyway?

A crash sounded in front of the door. Too close to the door, in fact. The next explosion threw Sophia across the room, and before she knew what was happening, someone had picked the almost-eight-year-old up by the scruff of her neck (how rude!). Now, she had only _heard_ of being picked up by the scruff of her neck, but after that, she pitied everyone else who had the misfortune of being in the same predicament.

"Is this the one?" a gruff voice asked behind her.

"Yeah, I think so," a higher voice (a woman, maybe?) replied, and continued, "but we better make sure."

Someone grasped Sophia by her black curls and yanked backwards. She stifled a cry at the pain, but screamed as sudden blackness overcame her.

"Naw, boss'll be fine with anyone from 'ere." the gruff voice said (who henceforth shall be called Tweedledee, courtesy of Sophia. His woman counterpart shall be likewise known as Tweedledumb).

"True. Shut up, girl." said Tweedledumb to the child, who had been screaming. Sophia was lifted (by now, she realized she was in a sack) and dropped. The Tower was eerily silent. Where was everyone? Where was Jarvis? She panicked and screamed louder than ever. Sophia received a kick in her sides for her effort. Her assailant, Tweedledumb, whispered into the sack, "Hush, child. Don't worry, we'll make it all go away if you'll just be quiet. But if you're not, we can make it _infinitely_ worse. None of your friends or family will be harmed if you shut up. But don't worry, we can also kill them if you misbehave. Don't test our patience."

* * *

Sophia was sufficiently frightened into keeping still and quiet the whole way to their destination. During that time, she mulled over what to do. The woman was the definitely more dangerous, if less physically able, of the two. Of course, the man was probably capable of tearing out Sophia's spine with one hand, so in the end, she decided to listen to them until she was rescued.

Speaking of which, where in the world were the Avengers? They hadn't simply _forget_ her would they? Sophia's heart nearly stopped. No, they were a team! Mr. Barton had rescued her from the Hulk! But insistent, nagging thought of being merely collateral damage continued to gnaw at her being.

Sophia's musings were interrupted by a clanging noise. Someone opened her sack, and for the first time in hours, light assaulted her eyes.

A new voice spoke. "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."

* * *

 **Haha! A cliffhanger! Also, I'm pretty sure that "the first day of the rest of your life" was coined by someone else, but I remember not who. :/ Sorry.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter, and review! Please, please, please review!**

 **Until next time! -Rainlight**


	5. Chapter 5

**Greetings and salutations, dear readers! I know, I know, I'm _actually_ , for once, updating on time. Unfortunately, this is not a full chapter, but a mere peek at what is to come. My most sincere apologies to those who care.**

 **Thank you for your review(s) daringwolf2000, and I can assure you that the kidnapping is indeed genuine.**

 **Also, I do not own the Marvel Universe (unfortunately). Anyway, onto the story!**

* * *

 _(Avengers Tower, twelve hours later)_

"What d'you _mean_ , 'she's gone'!" demanded Tony of his robotic butler.

"Approximately twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds after I was appointed young Sophia's guardian, the camera was put on a loop. However, I do have footage of a man and a woman entering the building five minutes before my cameras were sabatoged. Would you like to see it?"

"No—wait yes—call up the team first. They'll wanna see this."

Twenty minutes later, all the Avengers were set in front of a large television screen. "What is this all about, Tony?" asked Clint, who had had a long day and was getting ready for a nap.

"You guys'll wanna see this, trust me." promised Tony. On the screen, a stocky, well-built giant of a man, with sandy, tousled hair in his eyes escorted a beautiful middle aged woman with shining black hair and violet eyes enter the building. Tony took about five minutes to explain the significance of the video."...and this all points to one thing: Sophia was kidnapped."

The unspoken question was on everyone's mind: _who did it?_

* * *

 **Well, that's all for now! Goodbye! (Remember to review!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys... Soooo...(heh heh) I'm sorry I'm late? *dodges angry sister who wants me to update* Thank _you_ guys (my sister is very angry) for your patience (*cough* sisters *cough*). Anyway, I am so happy with the positive response I got from my dear readers! Thank you guys so much for the reviews! Anywayyyyy, I will be introducing some good friends of ours...hopefully, you'll know them when you see them :)**

 **Disclaimor: I own not the Marvel Universe. I do, however, own an...never mind, actually I'm broke. Whoops.**

* * *

Sophia was scared. What seven year old wouldn't be? Even if she was almost eight. For the three days she had been held captive, the girl had been carted around, wheeled, driven, and flown from one place to another. At least, that's what she _thought_. What else could have caused the giant rumbling, the tilting feeling, and popped ears? Eventually, she gathered from whispers that she was in Florida.

This time, she was blindfolded yet again, and led to another place, somewhat cramped. They (Tweedledee and Tweedledumb had been long since replaced) led her to a small enclosed area, about the size of a bed. At one end, a shiny, crinkly blanket that reminded Sophia of foil lay on top of a miserable little cot. A covered bucket was at the other end, for her "human waste". Grown-ups were so prim.

Someone opened the door, and led her, blindfolded, to a chair, where she was buckled down.

"What is going on?" demanded Sophia. A metallic female voice began counting down from ten.

"...nine..."

Sophia started to panic.

"...eight..."

"Let me out! Let me out! Lemme out! Lemme ou!" she screamed, her words beginning to slur in her terror.

"...seven..."

"No! No! Nononono!"

"...six..."

"Help! Heeeelllp!"

"...five..."

"Mommy! Mama! Mo-o-o-ommmy!" she began to cry, her sense on rationality temporarily gone. The voice counted on, amidst her shrieking.

"...four...three...two...one..."

"Stop it! Go away! I hate you! Mommy! Daddy! Where are you! Mo-o-o-ommy!"

There was a deafening thunder, the kind that left ringing in Sophia's ears. In those moments of deafness, Sophia felt a curious sensation; it was as if she was shooting upwards, very, very quickly, like a roller coaster, stealing air from her lungs. She gasped a bit for air. Then a feeling of weightlessness came about her, a bit of floatiness. She surely would have drifted up, if it hadn't been for her restraints.

"Where am I?" shrieked Sophia.

Silence greeted her words. Where was everyone? Sophia twisted her head and succeeded in pulling her blindfold off. She glanced around. Sophia was strapped to a lone chair stuck in front of a thick, dirty window. It was so dirty, it looked black, with only tiny pinpricks of light coming through.

 _Wait a second,_ thought Sophia, _the window isn't dirty..._

Sophia finally realized. She was in space.

* * *

It was a few days (or hours—it was hard to tell in space) later when someone came in, grabbed the floating blindfold, and tied it around Sophia's eyes. She was led back to the little cell. Sometimes, someone would slide a tray of edibles (no way she could call it food) and water under the door. Every three times this happened, her bucket was emptied by a masked individual. Sophia figured, from this, that she had been on the ship for three days.

No one was left to entertain her, so with straw from her cot, Sophia made some crude dolls.

This solitary confinement lasted another two days until the ringleader called again.

* * *

 **Haha! Another cliffhanger! I'm so sorry I couldn't get to the rescue; Sophia just needs to be in captivity a little longer. So feel free to comment and guess who is who, and whoever guesses the planned rescuer can include their own character if they want. If two or more people guess correctly and submit a character...well, I'll deal with that later.**

 **Bye!**

 **—Rainlight2427**


	7. Chapter 7

**Soooo...how was your summer? I am** ** _so so so_** **sorry for not updating...I know! I'm months behind schedule, and I have many excuses that I will not use... So yeah...sorry about the wait...**

 **Disclaimor: I do not own the Avengers fandom**

* * *

For Peter Quill, leader of a ragtag, slightly legal (so far) band of misfits, boarding a ship stealthily was not a first, but still difficult due to (ahem) his current circumstance. And what circumstance is that? you may find yourself asking. You see, he was still kind of new to this...leader type...thing and Groot was not exactly well-versed in the art of infiltration, sort of. Of course, Gamora had no problem at all, but Drax could not seem to grasp the concept of radio silence (or any kind of silence, for that matter), and Rocket would do just fine if decided to be cooperative and to just _shut his mouth_ for at least five minutes. But a 1960's space shuttle, out this far from Earth? This technology was _ancient_ , and Peter just needed to find out what his fellow humans were doing. If he had to guess, it was something about as legal as his friends before their little incident—that is, not very.

"Peter," hissed Gamora, breaking the silence. Peter felt like glaring at her—hadn't he just lectured his team about how important silence, or at least quiet, was?—but she would probably tear off his scalp and make him eat it. "Peter," she hissed again.

"What?" he hissed back. "What is so important that you feel the urge to hiss at me? Why are you hissing at me?"

"There's a little girl in there."

" _What?!"_

She glared at him. Hadn't he just lectured the team on the importance of maintaining silence, or at least quiet? "I _said_ , there's a little girl in the room."

"What's she doing?" demanded Rocket loudly. They all froze as the sound of hurried footsteps answered him.

 _Thanks, man,_ thought Peter, annoyed. This was why silence was important!

"I am Groot," answered Groot mournfully.

"Quick! Into the closet!" said Peter.

"What closet?" asked Gamora.

"There is no closet," answered Drax unhelpfully.

"Then into the room!" hissed Peter.

"With the little girl?" said Rocket doubtfully.

"You were the one that nearly got us caught—you don't get to question my judgement!" retorted Peter.

"Get in!" hissed Gamora.

"Why is everyone hissing?" muttered Rocket to himself.

"I am Groot." Groot answered.

"I know that, you idiot—but why does anyone bother to listen to _him_?" demanded Rocket.

To this, no one had an answer, because what they saw next left them speechless.

* * *

 _A few hours before_

Sophia was in pain. When she had first heard the word, she had not known what it meant, but that was before _this_. Every day, the people would come in and begin their procedure. Every day, the people looked different except for one thing: they always, _always_ , had purple eyes. Every day, they would enter her mind, until she felt her mind slowly slip; then they would stop. But every day, she would feel herself slipping faster, until their procedures grew from two hours, to only one, then to half an hour, then to twenty minutes a day.

She had seen other humans, after they could only resist for two minutes before they slipped. Eventually, their eyes would turn purple and they would become one of the others. Sophia had promised herself to not slip, but each time, it would hurt too much to resist after a while, like some foreign object was slowly forcing its way into her brain. Every session ended in tears, and at night, she would dream of her mother and Grace, and Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers and Mr. Banner and Mr. Barton and Dr. Banner, and Thor, and Tasha, and Luke, and even Jarvis. She had begun to lose hope.

Until today. Today was strange; she had looked out and seen people. Strange people—and not purple-eyed strange. There was a pretty green lady, and a racoon, and a moving tree with a racoon, and a big grey man with red tattoos, and a normal man, all whispering and hissing to each other.

She wondered what they were doing. Then they came into her room.

The man spoke, and not unkindly, "What's your name?"

Sophia simply looked at him.

* * *

 **So I'm sorry for the shortness, but I will update again! Hopefully soon!  
**

 **-Rain**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the late update...I have no excuse. Anyway, I don't own the Avengers OR the Guardians of the Galaxy... :(**

* * *

Sophia summoned up the energy to give a small smile at this motley assortment of people. Maybe they were going to rescue her!

"My name is Sophia and I'm eight. What about you?"

The blonde man stepped forward. "I am Star-Lord. You've probably heard of me."

" _Nobody_ calls you that," muttered the raccoon.

"I am Groot," said the tree.

"Yes, we know," grumbled the raccoon.

" _I_ didn't know," pointed out Sophia, "what's your name, Mr. Raccoon?"

"What the— _I AM NOT A RACCOON! Why_ does everybody think I'm a raccoon?"

"But you _are_ ," insisted Sophia.

"No, NO, ROCKET!" The blond man (Star-Lord?) snatched back the not-raccoon, who had just taken a flying leap at the little girl's face. "Rocket, she didn't mean it like that!"

Rocket humphed. "It sure _sounded_ like it," he said unapologetically.

"Oh," said Sophia, "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings Mr. Racc—Rocket," she said hurriedly.

"See? Now she's trying to sass me!"

"I am Groot," said the tree.

Sophia nodded solemnly. "I am Sophia."

Rocket face palmed. "We do _not_ need someone else who can only introduce themselves."

"That's not all I can do!" protested Sophia. "I can say all the ABC's in order and I can steal Tasers and—and—and I can count backwards from fifteen in a duck voice! See? Fifteen, quack, fourteen, quack, quack, ten, quack, qua—"

"You skipped some," said Rocket gleefully.

Sophia rounded on him. "Did not!"

Fortunately, Gamora intervened. "I am Gamora."

Drax looked up. "And I am Drax the Destroyer."

Sophia seemed impressed by this title. "Have you destroyed many things?"

"Yes," he replied gravely, "many things I have destroyed."

"Why do you talk like Yoda? Did your mommy make you pay for everything you broke?"

"I know not of this Yoda you speak of."

Star-Lord interrupted. "Okay, we are going to scout the rest of the ship. Gamora, Drax, you're with me. Groot, Rocket, stay here with Sophia. And no, I don't wanna hear it," he said as Rocket opened his mouth to complain. "Try to figure out what's going on from her."

Sophia regarded him. "You should be careful, especially of all the people with purple eyes. They can be nasty. Be careful, okay?"

He nodded and grinned roguishly. "Careful is my middle name."

* * *

Five minutes later found Rocket, Sophia, and Groot hiding in a closet that Sophia knew of as a scary needle-thing pivoted around the air, controlled by a blue whistling alien with an accent and a red mohawk. He strode around the room and came to the closet and yanked it open.

Sophia let out a yelp and covered her eyes.

"Who are you?" he demanded, nodding a greeting to Rocket and Groot, both of whom stared in disbelief.

"How'd you get in here?" demanded Rocket.

"Same way you did. By the way, Peter left the key to his ship in the ignition," he grinned maliciously, showcasing his exhibit of a dentist's nightmare, and dangled the keys in Rocket's face, who instantly leapt for them.

"Give them back you son of—"

"I AM GROOT!"

"This is a high-stress situation! I will swear however I want!"

"What's your name?" asked Sophia.

"The name's Yondu, lil' princess."

"Oh, okay. But my name's Sophia, not little princess."

He guffawed. "Where'd you pick this 'un up? She's bright as a rock!"

"That is _not_ very nice, Mr. Yondu! Did _your_ Mama teach you manners?"

This time, Yondu let out a cackle. "Tell ya what: I'll take this 'un and nowt bother you again. Are we at an agreement, lil' princess?"

Sophia considered this offer for a few seconds. "Well...What do you do?"

"Pirating is a pr'fession o' mine." He bared his teeth again in a smile.

"So, does that mean I can be a pirate?"

"Sure thing, lil' princess."

Sophia thought about the offer again and made her decision. "Okay!"

Rocket blinked twice. "Wait, _what?_ "

Unfortunately for him, the little girl and the pirate were already racing down the hall.

"Byyyyeee!" called Sophia over her shoulder.

Quill was so going to kill him.

* * *

 **So, if you are into Hamilton (like me!) you should check out my friend's story. It's about a little tiny two-inch girl (it's a tiny bit strange) and her misadventures in 1776 and forward...Anyway, check it out! :)**

 **Well, see ya next time!  
**

 **-Rainlight2427**


	9. Chapter 9

**...I'm sorry (so sorry)!**

 **Very sorry! (So sorry!)**

 **I'm very, very sooorry!**

 **For the length of the chapter and how long it took to update!**

 **(She's so soooorrry!)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.**

* * *

"...And my favorite color is green, 'cause I don't like pink, and Theresa—she goes to my school—says I'm silly and stupid 'cause I don't like pink." Sophia frowned at the memory as she recounted other favorite things. "And I like Nissa's cat, Pluto, cause he's furry and fluffy."

Yondu pulled her back suddenly. "Shhh," he told her. "Someone's comin'."

And indeed, the two heard the sound of footsteps, and someone singing loudly. "Your taste is o-on my mind. Girl, ya got me thirsty for another cuppa wine!"

"Quill," grunted Yondu. "What're you doin' here?"

Star-Duke? Star-Lord? looked up. "What the— _Yondu?"_ His voice was tinged with a note of disbelief. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I asked first, boy."

He held up his hands, "Okay, okay, fine. You got me. I was just—" his eyes caught sight of Sophia crouched behind Yondu. He scratched his head. "Yondu, where did you find a little girl?"

"In a closet," said Yondu proudly. "She gonna be ma lil' princess, eh, girl?"

Sophia nodded brightly. "I'm gonna be a _pirate._ We get things done!"

"Aww, c'mon, Yondu! She's like six!"

"Eight, actually," corrected Sophia.

"See? She'll be all growed up in no time!"

"What're you _thinking?_ She gonna grow up like me? In a rotten, stinking cell for every day of her life?"

"No," said Yondu, eyes narrowed. "She'll grow up to be _better'n_ you! Ah told you! She'll be ma lil' princess."

Star-Lord swore to himself. "I'm gonna kill Rocket."

They all froze, hearing more footsteps.

"Maybe it's Rocket," suggested Sophia.

Star-Lord poked his head around the corner. A deadly purple blast of who-knew-what whistled past his ear, and he pulled back involuntarily. "Nope, that's not Rocket," and he paused. "Now that I think of it, she had purple eyes..."

"RUN!" Screeched a familiar voice that came from the other end of the hallway, even as the deadly blasts of purple light came closer, with more intensity.

"Rocket?" Asked Star-Lord, bewildered. He had never known his accomplice to be so...run-ny and desperate to flee. Just then, Gamora and Drax dropped in from the air vent above them, Drax complaining about the size of the thing.

"Peter!" She gasped. "They were right behind us in the vent—" She was cut off as someone dropped less gracefully on Star-Lord.

Nobody noticed the disappearance of the pirate Yondu or the strange little girl, or the lack of deadly blasts of purple light from one end of the hall.

* * *

 **See ya soon!**

 **And REVIEW! You get more updates that way, I promise.**

 **~Rainlight2427**


	10. Chapter 10

Along the hallway of the ship, Yondu had whistled his way through the few purple-eyed minions that were shooting at them. Sophia clung to his hand, quivering slightly. "I'm scared, Yondu. What if they catch us again?"

He patted her hand. "They won't," he said consolingly.

She momentarily forgot her fear to scoff condescendingly. "That's what the Avengers said, too—"

"Hey! _Hey!_ " Sophia turned to see the only normal-looking man on the ship dashing towards them. "Yondu! The He—heck?" He demanded, quickly shifting gears after glancing at the eight year old.

She gasped loudly, instantly distracted once more. "You were gonna say a bad word!"

"Kid, now is not the time!"

"But you weeeere!"

"Just—shut up, will ya?"

She gasped again. "You should _not_ say that, either!"

"Quiet, Quill! You had your chance!" snapped Yondu. "She says she wants to be a pirate, and a pirate she'll be!" He gave a toothy grin.

Peter scowled.

" _And_ I have your keys. You left them in the ignition. I thought I taught you better than that!"

The blond man let out a shout of outrage. "I did _not_ leave my keys in the ignition! I may be an idiot, but I'm not _stupid!_ C'mon, just give them back! I'll stop bothering you!"

Yondu stared back, unmoved. "No, you won't. Don't try to lie to me."

"I hate you so much." The funny blue man swung the keys around his finger and continued down the hall with Sophia. Peter had to jog to keep up. "C'mon Yondu!" He turned to the little girl. "Come with me! I'm much cooler!"

She snickered at him. "No you're not!"

"I am, too! I—I make more money! I conduct things legally! And—" he winked "—I'm devilishly handsome!"

"Ewwwww," sniffed Sophia, wrinkling her nose. "You're _gross._ "

"And not legal," added Yondu, before pursing his lips to impale someone with his arrow.

"Semi-legal," conceded Quill. "But that's more legal than you."

"But are you a pirate?" inquired Sophia.

"Well...no. But I fight monsters!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I already have friends who do that. I think you're a rip off."

The man gave an indignant squawk akin to an angry chicken as they rounded a corner, and they froze. A blade had stopped inches from entering Quill's forehead. "Calm down!" He yelped, throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

The Green Lady from earlier relaxed and lowered her weapon. "I thought you ran that way," the woman murmured, face hardening as she gripped her sword tighter.

Yondu frowned. Sophia mimicked him. Quill just looked confused. "We, uh, _did_ go that way..." His eyes widened as he remembered something. "And when we boarded this ship, it wasn't like a circle or ring thing..."

Gamora and Yondu reached the same conclusion just as Rocket flew backwards into them, screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs. _"They can twist the ship!"_ snarled Gamora, swinging around to face the purple-eyed, gun-wielding people who had just emerged from the passage Yondu and Sophia had run.

"Whaddya _mean_ , they can twist the ship?" Demanded Peter, slightly disgruntled at missing the point.

Rocket paused to heave a sarcastic sigh. "It means, you moron, that these frickin' aliens can control the ship however they need—the passage, the doors, the exits—everything! We're screwed!"

It was at that moment that another group of heroes knocked on the nearby window.

Tony Stark, in a strange new suit, cocked an eyebrow at the tiny girl, who crouched behind some arguing Space Pirates. This was a new development.

* * *

 **And on that cheerful note, folks, I will wish you a merry Christmas, a happy Hanukkah, or whatever you celebrate!**

 **Remember to review!**


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